Five Questions
by spacemonkey13
Summary: This started as an attempt at doing a post-ep on season two's finale. Obviously this will be heading off to an AU. So, who knew one could leave the other? What if she then came back? When will the other move on? Where else would they be? Why?
1. Who knew

Author's Note: Hello. It's been months, I know. Pardon the absence as a lot has happened. To the well wishers, thank you. And yes, I'm doing much better.

This is a story that started as an attempt at a one shot, maybe a two-part story at best in "Increments" where I often lump all my story bits together. I read a review that suggested maybe delving more into some of those one shots a bit further. I tried that with "Broken" and it seemed to have done well, so here's another.

This one stems from the last chapter of Increments originally titled "Who Knew."

Here we go.

* * *

Who knew?

Who knew that an hour past midnight, in a smoky bar well out of the way and in the middle of a lull from the band, she'd lay her eyes on someone she thought she'd never see again.

Not since _she_ all but kicked her out of _her_ life.

Who knew…?

…that a week after shooting Doyle, Maura simply told her to stop calling.

So she did.

Who knew…?

…that after another week, Maura said she was accompanying her mother to recuperate out of the country.

Who knew…?

…that two months would pass without a single word before she had to hear from Cavanaugh that Dr. Maura Isles had resigned as Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Who knew…?

…that after half a year since the incident, Jane was done being sad and preferred to wallow in anger. Some nights, she walked the line between bitterness and sadness.

Who knew…?

…that a year to the date, she'd see someone tag her former best friend online, congratulating _her_ on her engagement.

To a woman.

A fellow doctor.

Socialite just like her.

Someone befitting an engagement to an Isles.

A year and a half to date, it seems Jane was simply the last to know as apparently evident in that she was well taken aback in the fact that Maura was even in the same time zone as her.

A hand on her shoulder jars Jane back to the present and she turns to see the woman she came in with tonight.

"Hey." There's a smile on her face, but the hint of concern is present. "Called you twice. You didn't hear me?"

Jane shrugs, and with more force than she thought she'd ever need at this point after so much time has passed, she takes the few steps necessary to start taking her away from Maura.

"Yeah. Sorry." She croaks and clears her throat.

"I thought I saw someone I knew."

"Who?" Her companion cranes her neck slightly to the side to see for herself, but Jane sidesteps and tugs on her hand.

"Turns out I was mistaken." Jane shrugs.

The BPD detective's companion remains silent and simply smiles in response as she allows Jane to lead her away.

But not before she catches the eye of a strange blonde woman by the bar.

A blonde woman whose frown seems to have deepened the moment Jane took her hand.

x-x-x-x-x

Kate shuts the trunk close and shortens the distance between the two of them.

"Don't be a stranger, Rizzoli." She grins as she hugs the Italian woman.

Jane rolls her eyes, but returns the hug.

They linger longer than they should in each other's arms, but mostly due to the feeling of gratefulness that Jane's hesitant to verbalize.

When Kate pulls away, "If you want, you could always give New York a try. I promise I won't make fun of your Red Sox."

Roll of eyes is all that she gets before Jane's gaze turns serious and, dare she say it, quite adorably begins to shuffle on her feet like a kid who's too shy to say something.

"What is it?"

A huff.

"Just thanks. For everything."

Kate beams. "Nothing you wouldn't have done for me. This was just the break I think I needed. And hey—" she places a hand on her forearm, "—if you need more time, if you need a 'reprieve', you know you could come to me. Any time."

Jane sighs and shrugs. After last night, she's seriously considering her friend's offer.

Both women lean their back towards the side of the car.

It's something she's come to appreciate with Kate. She knows when to leave Jane to her silence.

 _Like Maura used to_.

 _Shit._

She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Hey."

A comforting hand goes to lightly ruffle the hair at her nape and Jane finds herself willingly leaning towards the other woman.

"I thought I was done. I really thought I was okay." Her voice is slightly muffled, but Kate hears her friend perfectly.

A beat passes before Kate comes to a decision.

"Come with me."

Jane's head lifts to meet her sure gaze with her own confused one.

"What?"

"You need a break," Kate shrugs "and I think this'll be the perfect getaway."

Perhaps it stands as testament to her friend's state of mind and heart when the expected Rizzoli pride and stubbornness does not make an appearance and that Jane seems to seriously consider her offer.

 _It's serious_ , Kate tries to keep her gaze calm and un-assessing.

Jane needs a friend, not a fellow cop.

"Okay."

x-x-x-x-x

The lights in her apartment are muted.

Jane never found a reason to remedy the scenario. Jane figures it fit her mood since…since she left.

Had Maura been around…

 _This light isn't conducive to reading, Jane._

 _How do you even find anything in this place, Jane?_

But at least it isn't messy.

The first couple of weeks after the "fallout," as Jane's dubbed it in her mind, her apartment was the epitome of her own mind. Chaos.

When she realized Maura wasn't coming back, Jane somehow found it in herself to start picking both literal and metaphorical pieces of herself back together. No doctor was going to do it for her.

When anger became her go-to emotion, Jane took it as the drive she needed to prove to herself and everyone else that she was fine before Maura Isles ever came into her life, so she was going to be just fine without her. Better, even.

Now, as Jane's packing the items she'll need on this last-minute trip, she takes a slow careful look around her place.

It's clean. It's organized. A bit dark, but livable.

It's lifeless, Jane concludes.

She sighs.

She seriously needs to let her go. _She_ didn't want her. _She_ just left. _She_ discarded her like their friendship was worth nothing.

Jane's been living just fine without her former best friend. She's closing cases left and right like no one else's business. She's considering taking the Sergeant exam. If she passes, she'd be breaking another record as the youngest. Her inter-agency skills recently garnered recognition and now she's seriously considering a number of positions across different states. She helped solve a federal case by coming across an integral clue she deciphered coincidentally on her own. She apprehended an international fugitive with a tackle that went viral online thanks to a number of civilian onlookers.

It's like with Maura gone, all of the possibilities and all sorts of opportunities are out there waiting for her to come and grab it.

But it's all wrong at the same time.

She's forgotten what kale tastes like.

She doesn't quite remember anymore how to cook that eggplant dish Maura said was her favorite.

She no longer wakes up early on Sunday mornings. She doesn't have to follow the Sunday routine of jog, brunch, shopping, late lunch, errands, then Rizzoli dinner.

She only has to jog, eat, run her errands or laze about until it's time to make an appearance at family dinner.

She's learned to stop looking at the place her mother insists on keeping at the dinner table for Maura.

It's all wrong.

It's like everything's upside down and she's still waiting for the world to go back upright.

With a huff, Jane angrily zips her bag close and strides toward her front door, turning off the lights as she goes.

Kate's offer may just be what she needs.

After all, she's never taken a vacation since _that_ day.

Time away may even be the perfect prelude to some decisions she's been considering.

Her phone rings and Jane answers without looking at the caller ID as she fumbles with her keys and bag with one hand.

"Hey, Kate. I'm done packing. I'll be there in about ten minutes or so."

Silence.

"Kate?" Jane repeats to no response. She turns to look at the ID but registers an unknown number.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Jane is in the middle of ensuring she has her passport and wallet when she finally hears a voice.

"Hello, Jane."

With a thud, Jane's bag falls to the ground.

The sound it emits is almost as heavy and reverberating as that of her heartbeat upon recognizing the voice. But before she can even fathom the reality of who is on the other end of the line, a timid knock on her door surprises her further, causing Jane to go for a gun at her side that she's actually hidden in her safe instead.

The somewhat tiny voice from her phone travels through her ear at the same time as the voice quite muffled from the other side of the door travels in similar fashion to reach the interior of her apartment.

"I'm here."

The phone clatters to the ground.

* * *

AN2: The next chapter is for uploading in a bit. Just fixing some format stuff. Please do let me know what you guys think. I know I suck at replying to each and everyone who leaves a review. Rest assured I take them to heart and do my best to get back to writing.

Again, shout out to the lurkers whose imprint on my stories via numbers is still enough to make me feel like maybe my summaries for attracting you all in the first place aren't all too shabby.

To the faithful reviewers, I honestly wait and see your names pop back up on the reviews and wonder if I'm still on the right track to get you guys coming back again and again. Thank you. Seriously.

I know I owe an update on "Little Do You Know" and I promise I'm trying to get to it. It's just to be honest, I've been lurking in another fandom and was a bit busy catching up on that one. Latecomer and all that. Anyone know _Carmilla_? :)

Catch you all on the other chapter then.


	2. What if

Author's Note: Here's the second chapter. Finally. I kept getting all these weird characters when I initially tried to upload.

And okay, just a bit of warning. This chapter holds _no_ rizzles interaction. YET. Please be patient and allow me this bit of transition. Also, there are a pair of characters joining us from a different show. My apologies if some may be offended or pissed for adding them into the mix. They are going to be integral for the transition and they just popped into my head while writing and I felt like following the muse on through. If uninterested, you may skip down onto the second Author's Note for the gist.

* * *

The car moves fast and smooth along a scenic route, which is more or less expected out of a Ferrari.

The trees that line the road that leads to their destination appear to be caught in the middle of their transformation from summer green to autumn red.

The wind in their faces and the awe-inspiring sun about to set to their right…

It's just about everything Jane could've asked for in order to describe a single perfect moment that she could attribute to happiness…

…except it's not entirely happiness that fills her heart in that moment.

In fact, it's like she's drowning. She's suffocating. There's this overwhelming feeling inside her that she can't quite grasp and can't quite get rid of.

The indescribable "thing" gets worse when she lies awake alone at night.

She needs either a distraction to keep her mind and body occupied during the day and she needs to be completely wiped out to get ready to collapse into a deep sleep for the night.

Jane sighs and tugs her sunglasses back into place as she gazes out on to sprawling view of water and skies.

It's been two weeks since…since _she_ came back.

It's been two weeks of hopping from one city to the next with Kate: from Boston to Philadelphia, to D.C., to Miami, and the most recent was Chicago. They were supposed to head on a return to New York for a brief respite thanks to an interview Kate couldn't get out of, but after last night... Kate called for a slight change of plans and decided to head for the Hamptons.

So here they are.

Speaking of Kate, the other woman nudges her briefly and Jane shifts her attention to the driveway ahead of them.

"Wow, you rich or something?" Jane quips dryly with a small smirk and Kate chuckles. The Boston detective knows very well the answer to her rhetorical question.

As soon as the vehicle rolls to a complete stop, Jane pauses to take in the house in front of her before she gets out and takes a deep breath.

Kate stops by her side as she tries to take in the house as a newcomer like Jane would and allows a small smile to creep onto her lips until Jane speaks.

"Thanks."

It's low and so much that remains unspoken lingers in that single word.

 _Thanks for everything._

 _Again._

 _Thanks for the last two weeks._

 _Thanks for being here._

 _Thanks for last night._

It's the last one that Jane verbalizes further, "Especially for last night."

Kate knows better than to make it look like a bigger deal than it already is—though it is in fact a _very_ big deal—and keeps her eyes on the house in front of them as she shrugs and responds.

"I like to think you would've done the same for me."

Yet to look each other in the eyes, Jane laughs sardonically, "You mean fuck a complete stranger? You're married. You already know better."

"I was thinking you'd stop me from drinking a boatload in the first place."

"If Ricky was there he'd have probably egged us on."

Kate rolls her eyes. "My husband can be such a child."

"A child wouldn't have offered me a chance to go crazy in Vegas instead."

Kate suddenly whips her head in Jane's direction. "He what?"

Jane chuckles, momentarily forgetting her own worries in light of her friend's husband's antics and their own somewhat crazy relationship.

"He even mentioned this flight attendant chick he said who could probably give me a tour of the city if I was even remotely interested."

Kate's eyes widen.

"RICHA—!" Kate's shout is cut-off as the man in question rushes out of the front door.

"Hey whoa whoa whoa! What's with the need to break out the full name, honey?"

"She barely got your first name completed," Jane quips.

"Did you seriously just try to send Jane to Vegas with _Jacinda_ the flight attendant?!"

Rick's face dawns in understanding and holds up both hands in a manner of plea and request for time to explain.

"Ok. First, yes. I offered Jane a chance to go to Vegas. I mean, who doesn't LOVE Vegas?" Rick laughs and continues, "If you remember you liked Vegas at one point too—at least enough to get hit—"

"CASTLE!"

"—but that's not the point I'm trying to make."

"Was he about to say the word 'hitched'? You got hitched in Vegas?" Jane starts laughing.

"Second, it was a _totally_ different flight attendant who I was going to recommend to Jane." Rick nods enthusiastically right before Kate scoffs and crosses her arms, shooting a glare at the Boston native before returning her gaze at Rick.

"Oh, because this flight attendant is really just a flight attendant who happens to know the area?" Kate's tone is sarcastic and Rick frowns.

"Kate, Kelly is really just a flight attendant who happens to know Vegas as she's _from_ Vegas."

A somewhat guilty and embarrassed expression graces Kate's face.

"If I really wanted to send someone _fun_ Jane's way I totally would've recommended Grace instead," Rick beams.

Kate slugs him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"Hang on a sec, what sort of flight attendants are you even talking about?" The underlying meaning finally seeps into Jane's mind.

"S'not a big deal, JR. I would've given you a heads up if that were actually your thing." Rick laughs as he holds out his hands in a silent offer to carry the ladies' bags for them.

Jane shrugs and holds onto hers as Kate huffs and pushes her own carryon into her husband's chest.

With a minor "oomph" and a grin in response, Rick catches up to the detectives walking up the steps to the front door.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"I think I'm going up to bed." Jane tries to cover up a yawn after downing the last of her drink.

"You sure? It's still a bit early," Kate remarks.

Jane chuckles, "I'm kinda wiped out from the ride. Which might sound like total BS since you drove most of the way so maybe it's more of because of our late night last night."

Kate shoots a warning look at her husband who is fidgeting in his seat as he looks eager for details. She never really got to giving him a lot of details about what happened.

Jane catches sight of the looks exchanged between the two and stands up.

"It's okay if Ricky knows my sob story, Kate. It's the same shit story through the ages just with different characters. Someone leaves, someone's heart is broken, someone comes back…" Jane waves her hand about and huffs.

"But I tell you this, I am not some pathetic character who will bow down and weep like some grateful shmuck just because she finally decides to come back and NOW wants to talk. Fuck no!"

Belatedly, she realizes that she's rambling and swipes her friend's bottle to drag another mouthful to ease the taste of bitterness from the back of her mouth.

"If I learned anything as a writer, it's that we're all our own characters. We might get lumped into categories and genres but in the end we write our own endings." Rick's voice is low, soft, and soothing.

Jane chuckles mirthlessly but forces a smile as she swipes a hand across her eyes and looks back at the couple in front of her.

"Anyway, truth is I'm just tired of watching you both get competitive over scrabble."

Rick and Kate simultaneously look back down at the board and a sheepish smile creeps along both lips.

Jane walks away and as she climbs the stairs, she calls out a reminder "I'll be sure to make some noise if I need to come back downstairs in case you guys decide to turn it into strip scrabble or something!"

"Who told?!" Rick's voice echoes.

As Jane closes her bedroom door, she finally admits to herself scrabble was just one other item to add to the things that constantly reminds her of _her_.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"So? What happened last night?" Rick places his tiles on the board.

Kate sighs. "She drank a bit more than intended and was inebriated enough to finally start dancing. Then there was this woman who started dancing with her."

"Ooooh! Was it sexy dancing? Was it hot?" Rick's grin turns wide. Kate rolls her eyes and grabs him by the ear.

"Ow, ow, ow! Apples, apples!"

"Seriously, babe. I am honestly hurting for her. I thought she was at least doing better. She told me about her plans, you know? But after that Maura showed up back in Boston…"

"Was it really that bad?"

"I think I'm getting a glimpse into what she told me she was like the first couple of months Maura left. And I think she gets worse when she's alone."

There's a moment of silence as Kate gets back into her tiles and ponders the best way to win once again. Her husband got the best of her the last time he introduced Latin as a category. Not again and certainly not tonight.

"Did she just leave? Without saying anything?" Rick's question startles Kate from her concentration.

"Yeah. Don't you remember what I told you?"

Rick shakes his head. "Not Maura. Jane. When Maura just showed back up out of the blue, did Jane leave without saying anything else? Or without letting Maura say anything?"

Kate frowns, trying to remember from what Jane has shared. "I don't think so. All she said she remembers was like blindly trying to run out of there. I think Maura was right outside her door. Jane said she was shocked stupid to say anything and ran when she finally felt her legs respond."

"Hmm…" The look on her husband's face is curious.

"Why do you ask?" Kate returns her gaze upon the tiles.

"Just wondering if maybe we ought to hear Dr. Isles' story."

Kate scoffs as she places two tiles on the board, before withdrawing them.

"Hey! No fair! We said no takebacks!"

"You said it and I never agreed to that. Plus, that was like two letters. The last time you tried to pull off the same shit, you placed all but one tile and I let you!" Kate slams down her new set of tiles on the board.

Rick grunts and crosses his arms.

"And what about Dr. Isles' story? She broke her best friend's heart. 'Nuff said."

"You know better than most that there's always a story. Doesn't Maura deserve the same? To have her side told?"

Kate only rolls her eyes in response and moves to stand. "Refill?"

Rick shakes his head as he ponders his turn.

His wife returns to her seat when he speaks up once more, "It's been two weeks. Maybe they can finally have a conversation."

"If Jane thinks she's ready, she'll tell us. Better yet, she'll go do something about it herself."

"What if Maura comes after Jane?"

The NYPD captain shakes her head. "Again? Unlikely. She wouldn't even know where to find her."

"She has friends at the BPD, right? They could totally do her a favor and track her down for them."

"One, I wouldn't be so sure if she still has friends at the BPD after what happened. Two, from what Jane previously told me about Maura Isles, it wouldn't be in her character to use official resources for personal reasons."

"From what you told me, based on what Jane told you, it wouldn't have been in her character to run off and leave her best friend high and dry, yet here we are." He swipes a hand through the air, gesturing to the room at large dramatically.

Kate glares, but relents. "Touché."

"Plus, I looked up the name Isles, Kate. If I have a 'guy' for almost everything, I'm pretty sure Maura has her own little black book for these situations. Probably a longer one at that."

Kate pauses.

"I'm just thinking, what if? Wouldn't be such a big deal, right?"

Something about his tone worries her.

She stares at him.

The fact that she knows him better than anyone…

"Rick?"

"Hmm?" She _knows_ he is definitely trying not to look in her direction. Not to mention his hands are playing with the tiles. Her husband will play with a lot things carelessly but never with scrabble.

"Castle."

"What?"

He meets her eyes but the look in them is something she is all too familiar with when he knows he's done something she may disagree with. Especially when he knows she knows he knows.

"What did you do?"

Her stare is unflinching.

The author places his tiles back down and runs one hand through his hair as he tries to muster a grin.

"Uh. Funny story—"

"CASTLE!"

"Maura is coming by—"

The doorbell rings.

"—tonight."

There is a moment of deafening silence as both husband and wife stare at each other.

* * *

AN2: Feel free to let me know if yay or nay.

Gist: Kate invited Jane onto her husband's book tour for a much needed reprieve. While taking a break from said tour in the Hamptons, Rick apparently did something and now Maura's found out where Jane is.


	3. When will

Author's Note: Hello everyone. I know I've been remiss in updating my stories. Rest assured, I mean to complete this one at least, and "Little Do You Know" has not been forgotten. I suppose I got caught up in a multitude of other things. I hope this one (shorter than what I usually post, I know) will be an okay start into trying to get back into Jane and Maura's world. Let me know what you folks think please.

* * *

 _When will you stop remembering?_

It's the sun that inevitably wakes her.

Jane grunts and smashes the pillow against her face with a muffled groan.

After a beat, she sighs and flings the pillow aside. She's awake and there's nothing that will get her to go back to sleep. She supposes that's just another irony to add to the list of things she wants to blame _her_ for. Before, she couldn't seem to get enough sleep because lord knew Maura always had some activity or another that needed accomplishing either before the sun OR Jane had fully risen. Now that the woman wasn't around to wake her up at an ungodly hour, Jane seems to have lost the ability to sleep in.

She supposes that's one of the reasons she's "blazing trails left and right" at her job, as Frankie phrased it. She's almost always the first one in and almost always the last one out.

Her mother is, naturally, upset and harping Jane to slow down or some other suggestion that the detective has simply tuned out.

Jane glances at the bedside table and picks up her phone.

A prepaid phone that Kate suggested when the other woman learned of Jane's initial idea of cutting all forms of communication while on vacation. The New York native had to remind her that she has family.

 _"_ _You know you'd hate it if your family needed you in one form or another and you weren't there. You and I both know emergencies all too well, JR," Kate says in a solemn tone._

The phone in her hand has one missed call and one message.

Jane frowns. She's entrusted the number to two people: Frost and Frankie.

 _On her way out of town with Kate, she had called her partner to meet him near BPD in order to hand him her number, along with strict instructions to pass on said details to Frankie. She emphasized that both younger men were only to contact her in case of emergency: Frankie for anything pertaining to the family and Frost with regard to work._

 _Frost was quiet at first, but nodded in agreement. Jane took his silence in stride and was about to leave until he spoke up "What's got you spooked, Jane?"_

 _Jane froze mid-step. But they both knew. Or at least, Frost had an idea. He always was smarter than everyone gave him credit for his age._

 _Without turning, Jane simply replied "She's here."_

 _And then she was gone._

An echoing beep from the device in her hand jolts Jane back to the present.

Another message.

Jane taps a few buttons to find out that Frost was the one who tried to call her last night and left a message asking her to call him back when she could.

This morning's latest sender turns out to be her brother.

 _Jane, you were thinking of moving without telling anyone? Ma had to find out when some suit came looking for you at your place and bumped into her. I have half a mind to give Ma this number, frog face._

"Fuck."

She has half a mind to call Frankie but decides to see what lovely news her partner has for her before dealing with the chaos called her family.

"Frost."

"Jane."

"You rang?"

"Yeah. Last night. What, got your phone on silent or something?" There's something in his voice she can't quite place but Jane goes along with it for the time being.

"Yeah. I do. I did. So, what's so important? You guys do remember I said this number was for in case of emergencies, right?"

She hears him sigh on the other end.

"I know what you said. But…"

"But what, Frost? Speak up already because I honestly haven't got all day." Jane sits up and moves to get off the bed.

"Maura got taken in by cops."

 _When will you stop caring?_

Jane falls straight back down onto the bed, almost missing and ending up on the floor.

She croaks, "What?" and clears her throat before following up with "What do you mean…what do you mean she got taken in by cops?" Jane's voice rises considerably louder towards the end of her line of questioning.

"I actually don't have the full details yet. I just happened to overhear that another precinct was trying to verify Dr. Isles' credentials with BPD. I tried to ask around but something happened, I'm not sure, but whatever records that are supposed to be there for whatever incident they took her in for isn't there."

Jane is frozen.

A number of scenarios are now coursing through her mind.

 _What if someone from her sperm donor's side came back?_

 _What if they think she's to blame for Doyle?_

 _What if they weren't really cops? Dirty cops—everyone knows the mob has got tons of 'em in their pocket one way or another._

 _What do they want with Maura?_

 _Jesus, they've taken her while I was FUCKIN' ASLEEP._

 _What if that's the reason she came back?_

 _What if she needed help?_

 _And I ran._

 _I FUCKIN' RAN!_

"Jane!"

Frost's voice brings her back and Jane has her hand squeezed tight around the phone as she struggles to formulate words, "What DO you know then?"

She has so much more she wants to ask but it's the only one that manages to slip out.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I'm honestly still looking. I—"

"Which station?" Jane cuts him off.

"Like I said, there aren't any records—"

"Well did you ask who made the call? Where it came from at least?!" Jane is getting furious.

In the back of her head, she knows Frost has probably done all that he can at the moment, especially given the circumstances, but…

"I did. Officer who took the call said it came from a precinct in New York City—but Jane, we don't have—"

Jane hangs up.

New York.

She knows someone from New York.

 _When will you stop wondering where she is, how she is, if she's okay, if she's still adorably awkward, if she's still the same...?_

Jane immediately scrambles out of bed, barely remembering to put on her pants and shoes before running out of the room and heading for the stairs.

"Kate! Beckett! Beckett!"

Jane nearly stumbles, trying to find her footing as she slides to a stop right outside the spacious kitchen when she spies her friend and her husband in it through her periphery.

Kate freezes while Rick straightens up and suddenly seems to find the marble counter fascinating.

"Beckett! I need your help."

"Jane, what—"

The Boston detective cuts her off and enters the kitchen, "Frost called, my partner. He said some cops took Maura in but the records aren't there. Kate, I need your help. Something is fishy. He said he tried looking into it and the records aren't there." Jane unknowingly rambles and repeats herself.

Kate holds up a hand in an unconscious manner of trying to pacify her friend. She also notices her husband slowly backing away and with her other hand immediately grabs him by his shirt and yanks him closer to her side. He's not leaving her alone to deal with this.

"Jane, I know."

Jane stops. "What? What do you mean 'you know'?"

"I had the records taken down."

Jane's eyes fill with suspicion as she stands up straighter.

"What's going on, Kate? Where's Maura?" Her tone turns cold and Kate knows she has moments to assure her friend that whatever scenarios she has going on internally are unfounded.

A throat clearing itself softly behind her startles the detective and she whirls around quickly to determine if it is a threat.

 _When will you stop hearing her voice?_

"Hi, Jane."

A moment of tense silence fills the room.

To everyone's surprise, Jane breaks it when she darts forward, yanks the medical examiner off of her seat and into her arms.

"You're okay," Jane mumbles into Maura's hair, trying to let the fact sink in that her best friend—former or not—is right here. Safe. She's okay.

A bit hesitant at first, Maura seems to get over her own surprise and lifts her arms to wrap around the detective.

And slowly, while Maura's arms tighten, Jane's hold loosens.

When Jane finally seems intent to step away, it is her turn to be surprised when Maura mumbles "no" and squeezes her arms around the taller woman while burrowing her face onto the other's shoulder.

And against all previous thoughts, feelings, and what may be logical thinking, Jane emits a sigh and returns the hold.

 _When is enough?_

* * *

AN2: Thank you to the ones who leave reviews and even PMs. Health wise, I have gotten better but some days I think I'm not at a 100% entirely. Thank you to those who patiently waited. In a way though, it got me thinking. Imagine if I never made it...or what about those other authors around here who maybe never finished their stories simply because they are no longer around to do so? I dunno. Just made me sad, I guess. Leave a review if you wish to let me know if this chapter was even worth the wait. Thanks again.


	4. When will (Pt 2)

Author's Note: Overdue standard disclaimer that I own nothing other than my imagination with regard to these two ladies.

Second, pardon the overdue chapter. I honestly believe the last offering was subpar, so my apologies for that. Hope this chapter, which is technically part of the last one, will suffice. For now.

* * *

 _When will you stop running?_

Maura knew it was going to be hard to move on from her anger, from her emotions, from Jane.

But she knew she had to try.

So she left to try and salvage what she can of herself. She figured her actions were valid in the sense of self-preservation.

Even if a part of her inherently knew that it may very well be the biggest mistake of her life. And that there may be no going back—literally and figuratively speaking—after she walked away without a word to Jane, to the rest of the Rizzolis…to anyone who didn't need official notification by way of her job.

The first few weeks were terrible. She missed everything and everyone back home, but she strove to pretend everything was fine.

Her mother wasn't fooled by any means.

Constance Isles didn't mince words when she asked Maura, "What are you doing?"

One look at her mother's face and Maura knew there wasn't even a chance of deflection. So she looked away and said nothing.

But her mother's words reverberated within her when Constance gently stroked her daughter's cheek before softly speaking, "Your problems don't stay behind when you leave. She's just as easily here with you as if you never left."

Foolishly, Maura felt she needed to prove her mother wrong. Granted, she swore she thought she heard Jane's voice when Maura cemented her resolve with an email to Oxford confirming her attendance to a conference to distract herself with. Right before she hit send, it was as if Jane was right beside her, one eyebrow arched and the most deadpan voice "I mean what's one more foolish decision to add to our track record, right? On a roll, are we, Maur?"

She immediately hit "send."

 _When will you stop hiding?_

She dove into work. She had standing invitations to guest as a lecturer and had requests to do consultations, and Maura attended them all. She even took her role in the Isles Foundation just a tad more seriously, organizing events almost one on top of another. The crème de la crème of high society had a blast getting to know Maura Isles all over again, especially considering some of the whispered comments of how _this_ Dr. Isles seemed a tad more approachable and easier to converse with, according to some, as compared to years before.

It was also interesting how those who didn't know the sole heir to the Isles name wanted to get to know her.

Looking back at that particular period, Maura can only do so with a mix of horror and embarrassment whenever she recalls how she allowed herself to dwell and languish in the attention that her so-called peers were willing to shower her with. She basked in the popularity she realized she held, able to handle conversations so much differently than before…

 _Before. Before Jane._

One person in particular, Maura admits, she allowed a whole lot closer and deeper than she wanted, or planned.

It definitely felt so sudden, but at the same time it seemed to be exactly what she needed in order to prove—unnecessarily so—that she was fine, thriving, and able to move on from Boston and everything she left behind, including a certain Boston-native homicide detective.

Laura was the like the antithesis to all things Jane Rizzoli.

Laura was born and raised in the UK, hailing from a long line of a certain royal family. Where Maura thought she was quiet, Laura was even more so. Laura chose her words so much more carefully. Where Maura thought of herself as cold as some used to refer to her, Laura was "warmer" with her ready smile, but infinitely more reserved when prompted to give her honest opinion or feelings on a matter. The British doctor split her time between her familial duties, the NHS, the WHO, and yes, even _Médecins sans Frontières_. The latter was, in fact, what prompted the two to hit it off one night during another fund raising event—this time, hosted by Laura's family.

From there, Maura found herself having coffee with Laura.

 _When will you forget?_

 _When will you move on?_

Then a coffee date turned to brunch, then dinner. It all seemed so innocent at first, Maura admits. She knew she wanted to forget and move on, but she had her reservations into even considering a romantic relationship at that point. What she and Jane had may not have been of the romantic kind, but Maura was done pretending her feelings were firmly platonic. It's precisely one of the reasons the former ME felt she had to leave.

But then dinner with Laura spawned more events attended together as each other's date. Before she knew it, Maura's name was attached to hers on tabloids and a small smattering of paparazzi had even started to follow her.

It was too much too soon, she knew it. She felt it.

Before she can even try to figure out a way to distance herself from this relationship she suddenly found herself in…

Laura proposed.

And she said yes.

But that same night, the former Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts sank to her knees, not registering the harsh sound of her front door closing.

The following day, before the sun had fully risen, Maura packed her bags once more and fled.

She fled to where her mother was once again.

x-x-x-x-x

 _When will you learn?_

While Maura was busy entertaining in France, Constance Isles admittedly grew tired of her daughter's pretense. And so the older woman made a decision. After informing her only child that she was taking her recuperation to one of their villas in Italy, she reminded her daughter, "When you're done with this life you think you deserve, come find me, darling."

She bestowed upon her child a soft kiss on her forehead like she used to when Maura was so much younger, and then Constance left.

It had been months, and the senior Isles had grown concerned as time seemed to bring no sense of epiphany or simple sense at all to her stubborn daughter. Her husband had been privy to numerous calls where she ranted about what was left of their sensible child. A sentiment Arthur could only nod and agree to as he struggled to catch up with what on heaven's name had happened to uncoil his wife and daughter like so.

One fine morning, a barrage of messages from family friends and the like who congratulated her on her daughter's engagement caused the woman to drop near faint to the nearest chair.

Hand on her heart, Constance Isles tried to figure out what to do, pondered over who she needed to pay to make things right. Whatever "right" meant at the point. Her husband's own "panic" did not help matters when he demanded to know through the phone how in hell did their daughter named Maura end up wanting to marry another woman named Laura—of all names. And for that matter, why.

A few minutes later and a moment of clarity after, she took a page from Jane Rizzoli's mother. She figured she ought to start with trying to talk to her daughter and demand just what the hell was going on and what she was thinking.

However, Maura's sudden appearance at the villa changed everything.

Especially when her daughter broke down crying into her arms, muttering words she could barely understand, but most notable was "I'm sorry," and "I messed up." The mother knew her daughter surely had reached her breaking point as she swore she heard the F word a few times somewhere in the litany the younger woman was profusely saying.

And right before her full-grown daughter cried herself to sleep in her arms, Constance struggled to quell her tears and stifle a smile when she heard the soft but oh-so-audible admission she wasn't sure she was meant to hear, "I love her, mama. I love her and I left her."

Constance Isles was certain her daughter didn't mean the ex-fiancée she just left behind.

x-x-x-x-x

 _When will you let go?_

Maura is no idiot. She is, in fact, a genius—numerous documents, accreditations, certificates, and even licenses, can prove it.

She knew it wasn't going to be easy to mend things, especially with how she left matters to begin with.

She knew it may not be easy seeing her at all—if she'd be permitted to do so in the first place.

But now she knows for a fact that it's harder than she expected but at least no worse than her recent imaginings.

Maura admits she had looked up Jane through all this time. She had to ensure her best friend was first and foremost still alive. She knew Jane's profession was dangerous at best, and coupled with the detective's stubborn nature and near-reckless attitude at times…

Whenever she checked the Internet for news, the doctor found herself biting her lip in nervousness, wondering if that day would be the day she would have to read about Jane's death. Every day, whenever Maura considered the idea that Jane was gone, she also contemplated the thoughts on how she will have to get over the possibility of Jane dying thinking Maura hated her, without Maura by her side. Jane could die with Maura thousands of miles away, without _her_ doctor who could have possibly made a difference to Jane's survival. After all, Jane only allowed Maura the liberty of stitching her up, of checking up on her. Jane heeded Maura's advice more often than the detective was prone to do others.

Jane used to allow Maura such liberties. Jane used to heed Maura's advice.

Who knows if Jane would even listen to a word the former Chief ME has to say now?

Maura felt the greatest surge of pride whenever she came across news articles that boasted of Jane's bravery, intelligence, her courage. She struggled not to pick up the phone and send Jane a message congratulating her for every arrest of hers that made the headlines. And she definitely fought hardest against herself whenever news claimed an officer or detective was injured—or worse, killed in the line of duty. She struggled not to inquire to whomever may be willing to take her call as to whether it was Jane, Korsak, Frost, or Frankie.

Each time, the side campaigning not to call won only because it argued that _they_ wouldn't want to hear from her at this point. That particular voice only grew stronger as more and more time passed.

But after the disaster that was her six-hour-long engagement, and after a day spent finally divulging everything to her mother, Maura was finally done running and pretending.

So here she is, after chasing Jane across cities and states, wrapped in her arms.

In this moment, she can pretend that everything is okay. That she never left, that she never hurt Jane by leaving, that she didn't spend close to three weeks lamenting the ladies she had to see come and go with the love of her life.

But trust her inner voice to slip and Maura unexpectedly whispers and breaks the silence.

"I don't deserve this."

Jane tenses.

Maura stiffens in response.

Jane squeezes her tight once, then pulls back with a frown.

And it's as if no time has passed with the way Jane looks into her eyes and knows what Maura is thinking: precisely what she means with the words she let loose.

A somewhat dim smile barely lifts the corners of Jane's lips before it disappears and a somber look fills her expression as she states, "When I said 'always', Maura, it meant I'll be there no matter what. Even if you hate me. Even if I hate you."

Then Jane walks out of the room.

 _When do you let go?_

 _You don't._

* * *

AN2: Thank you to the folks who continue to follow and read this story, including the other ones I have hanging out there. I swear I haven't forgotten. It 's just I need a certain mindset before I can put everything to words. Thank you to those who leave a review, which to be perfectly honest, I set as a reminder that I need to write what I can-when I can-so as not to lose sight of the story I have in my head. I appreciate those who leave even a few words asking when's the next one. I like to keep them as my personal "You should be writing" version. Again, thank you to those who continue to stick around.

AN3: I promise I'm working on the next chapter for Little Do You Know, despite it being over a year since my last update. So sorry.


	5. Where else

AN: I'm sorry for any typo or grammar mistakes. This was done while on medication and done in a hurry while the muse was at work. Been going through a bit of writer's block, hence my inability to continue my other story. Anyway, hope this chapter passes muster.

* * *

"I like to have music playing when I'm cooking in the kitchen. I would even dare sing sometimes even when I know I can hardly carry a tune."

Maura fiddles with a ring on her finger as she speaks. A ring that Kate notes with a mix of relief and concern is NOT an engagement ring.

"Actually, I _used_ to play music while I would work in the kitchen. Most especially when I'm feeling down."

Maura looks up when she feels the couple's gaze upon her.

With a feeble and teary smile, Maura continues, "Before Jane, I used to be alone most of the time so having music playing in the background helped me feel like I wasn't as lonely. Before Jane, my house was quiet—too quiet. No one barged in demanding coffee, asking to be fed, wondering why I never have _real_ food, asking if they can hide in my bathroom to get away from their mother, ranting about my lousy security measures, upset about how I never lock my door…"

The former chief ME emits a sigh that the writer translated as one who seemed just plain tired.

"Before Jane I used to sing alone. But she would sing with me. Even when we both know I can't carry a tune."

Maura could've sworn she was done crying, but it's not the first time she's wrong. From the state of things, she doubts it could hardly be her last. She rubs her fingers frantically against her eyes, too tired to even try and hide her emotional state from a couple whom she barely knows aside from what she's garnered from her research.

Rick steps forward as Kate muses that her husband will be the likeliest to cave first upon the sight of any female crying—of anyone crying, really. It's one of the things she loves about him: his heart.

But before he can come around the island to approach the doctor seated by the counter, a gentle grip on his forearm makes him pause and recognize the Boston native. Chancing a glance at his wife and recognizing _her_ look, he nods and steps back.

Quietly, both husband and wife walk out of the kitchen—until the writer remembers his coffee and makes a fumbling dash back for his mug and trips.

The clatter of the utensils that lay on the counter causes Maura to finally look up and note the "frozen" scene before her: Kate with a palm against her face, Richard with a mix of apology and guilt on his face, and…and Jane by her side—shaking her head with an exasperated look on her face.

"Sorry" Richard squeaks right before he emits a yelp as his wife drags him by the collar and out of the kitchen.

From the large bay windows, both Jane and Maura take time to observe the couple move outside, where it seems Rick's attempt at securing his drink was a futile one at that as Kate swipes the mug from his hand and walks away as she takes a sip. As they drift out of sight, both ladies can hear the author's cry of "Kate!" as Jane surmises they must be making their way down to the beach. If Rick's desperate enough for caffeine, perhaps a trip to town for a fix is on their agenda.

Either way, it seems they have the house to themselves for the time being, Jane theorizes.

Either way, it seems the time for them to get things sorted out is now.

Jane tried to walk away earlier. She had plans of going up to her room and packing her stuff. She even thought of foregoing packing and just leaving.

But just as she was about to reach out for the front door, she paused and remembered asking herself _when will you stop running_?

Jane knows she's tried to move on, forget, tried to run away, but with or without Maura in front of her, there was no escaping her memories. No escaping her questions.

So she forces herself to turn right back around and head for the kitchen where she hears Maura's words.

And here she is.

Here they are.

Former best friends—or not—stare at each other.

Both note the subtle differences in each other from when they last saw the other—when they last had the chance to really look and remember what the other was like.

Maura notes that Jane seems to have gained more muscle mass. Not overly so, but from their brief physical encounter earlier, Maura recalls the subtle difference from when she last had the chance to hug her detective and in the back of her mind jotted down her observation of how Jane seemed… _harder_. She focuses at the more defined angle of her cheekbones, and Maura's tender gaze shifts to a slight frown as she cannot help her habit of wondering if her best friend has been eating properly.

On the other hand, Jane immediately notices that the doctor has definitely lost some weight. That or Maura's impeccable fashion sense is no longer…well…impeccable—what with the way her clothes seem to be hanging somewhat looser around her frame. As the detective's gaze travels downward in further assessment of her former best friend, her eyes inevitably zeroes in on Maura's ring finger: bare ring finger. Glancing at the other just to be sure, as Jane can't seem to recall then and there which one _should_ hold a ring, she realizes that both left and right ring fingers hold no piece of metal and stone. There is that chunky piece of jewelry on her index finger, but Jane recognizes the odd piece from way before their falling out.

"I gave the ring back."

Maura's voice startles Jane to tearing her gaze away from Maura's hands.

But instead of looking her in the eyes, Jane turns away and fiddles with the espresso maker.

Maura notes that Jane seems to have no trouble making coffee with this particular machine. And the observation just seems to add to the blonde's sadness as she realizes that Jane had to learn how to because she wasn't there to cater to her detective's caffeine needs.

As if to confirm her hypothesis, Jane casually throws out, "Kate's been spoiled by Rick's own expensive coffee taste and taught me how to wrangle these bad boys" and lightly pats the machine in faux affection.

When Jane turns back around, she's holding two cups and places the other in front of Maura, but keeps her eyes on her own cup.

Maura can't help but look down into her own, not quite sure if she should—or could—take a drink.

Until Jane breaks the silence.

"I hate running. I hate it, but I would do it anyway because it's part of my job, my training, my workout schedule. I would hear folks talking about 'runner's high' and I'd scoff because I never experienced it and the only 'high' I ever got from running was afterwards when I can throw my running shoes back in the closet and slump on my couch to unwind with a cold beer."

She pauses to take a sip of her coffee.

The other woman remains quiet; half worried Jane might stop talking and the other half wondering where this is leading to.

"I hate running and whenever I had to, I preferred to run alone because I hate having to ensure I either run fast enough to keep pace with whomever I'm running with, or run just slowly enough so I don't happen to leave the poor bastard behind."

Upon hearing the latter's admission, Maura's hazel eyes jump upwards to surprisingly land on Jane's own brown ones.

Because Maura remembers differently from every time they'd run together…

Jane continues, "I used to hate running, that is, until I started running with you. And I used to prefer being alone, until I met you."

Jane can't help but smile as memory suffuses her, and it seems to do the same for Maura as she adds, "I don't think I even fully realized how I never had to run slower or run faster whenever we'd run together. You were just…there. Always there. We could have a conversation while running, or we could just jog in silence. I vaguely remember wondering if I was holding you back and asking you if you were humoring me and my speed but I think you said—"

"I said, 'I wanted to ask you the same thing'," Maura interjects.

Jane nods.

"And we never spoke of it again. I think it was just one of those things we had between us that we took as is."

Maura belatedly notes Jane's use of the past tense.

"So what I really want to know more than anything right now, Maura, is why? I thought you'd always be there…beside me. But then, in an instant, you were just gone. Did you lie? Was I simply holding you back? Is that why you left?"

Maura's shaking her head and opening her mouth to verbalize her disagreement but Jane plows on, with her voice rising in volume with each word, her fists clenching tighter at her side.

"You told Kate and Rick that anecdote about how things were like for you before me. Was I too noisy for you? Had enough of the chaos known as the Rizzolis? Did I overstay my welcome in your home? Had enough of me freeloading on you and your kitchen? Your food? Your TV? Because you could have at least warned me. I would have stopped. I could have, Maura. I could have dialed back down on me being around you ALL THE GODDAMN TIME."

Tears are running down Maura's eyes even as she continues to shake her head, finally able to emit a sound, though a shaky one at her first attempt. "No."

Jane delivers one last set of lines, "You could've told me you were done with me. It would have hurt a lot less than you leaving without a word. And it sure as hell wouldn't have hurt as fucking much as you coming back!"

"No!"

The vehemence in that single word seems to lightly shake the red haze around Jane's vision.

And the hand around one of her clenched fists is enough to jar Jane Rizzoli back down to the present, to where Maura Isles is suddenly in front of her, no counter between them, tears running down her face, but with a desperate yet determined look in her eyes.

"I made a mistake, Jane. I made a mistake. Not you. Me. I was the one who ran away because…because I couldn't 'deal'. You didn't do anything other than be the best friend one could ever have."

"I dunno, Maura. The way you left things, I figured maybe you preferred me getting shot over Paddy Doyle." Jane gripes as she attempts to shrug off Maura's touch.

But at her words, the doctor's grip only tightens just as her eyes widen.

"How…how can…"

Maura shakes her head and her hands transfer their grip onto Jane's shirt, and when Jane meets her eyes, the detective notes the wild look in them as Maura's voice trembles, "I feel like I should be mad that you'd even think I would be capable of such a thing, least of all a thought. But you're right. With how I left things…I deserve that. I don't deserve a lot of things at this point except for the lowest and poorest of thoughts you and everyone else may have about me."

Jane frowns.

Maybe it's habit, or maybe it's because beneath all the anger is her innate need and want to protect Maura from everything that could potentially hurt her.

But Jane feels like shaking Maura in return and demanding that she's wrong: Maura deserves nothing but the best of everything. She doesn't deserve to be remembered poorly by anyone.

It's why Jane lied to everyone back home. Why she continues to lie to this day.

"But Jane, if there's one thing I absolutely want you to believe and understand from this point onward it's that I _never_ wished you to take Paddy's place. I would NEVER wish you pain. I would NEVER want you hurt. I can't even fathom the thought of you hurt, more so dead, Jane! Jesus! I can't even…"

Maura's fists loosen their grip.

"I can't…"

One hand goes to clutch at her heart as if physically pained at the thoughts coursing through her mind.

"…if you died…"

The other begins to fumble back towards the taller woman, as if grasping for something to hold.

"Jane…"

Despite how much time has passed, Jane Rizzoli was still well versed in the signs of Maura Isles going into one of her panic/anxiety attacks and quickly wraps an arm around the slightly shorter woman, instinctively trying to comfort her and bring her back to the present.

"Sshhh…Maura, I know. It's okay. I'm here."

"Jane…I can't—" Maura gasps.

"Yes, you can. You're okay. You're okay, I'm okay. I'm right here, Maur." The nickname rolls easily off of her tongue once more. The only nickname Maura knows and recognizes. The only nickname bestowed upon her that she loves.

Tears are falling down Maura's face as she struggles, trying to catch her breath and at the same time trying to communicate her words to Jane in a fit of desperation. Hoping she understands— _wants_ her to understand.

"Jane…please…" Maura's hand finds one of Jane's and tries to hold on.

"Sshhh. I know, Maura. I know. You have to calm down and focus on your breathing."

"…no. Jane…I need…you…I need you to…"

"I know, Maura. I _know_."

Jane curls her fingers around Maura's neck, shifting her palm just so around Maura's jaw to get her eyes to meet hers as Jane emphasizes, "I know. I know, Maura. Please, sweetheart. Focus on me. Focus on your breathing. You don't have to explain. I'm sorry I even brought the thought up."

Maura still seems to be struggling to catch her breath, and Jane slowly brings them slowly down to the ground until she's leaning against one of the dozen cabinets lining the kitchen counter, until she has Maura cradled in her arms, until she leans her forehead against the doctor's and whispers in plea, "Please, Maura. Breathe. Focus on your breathing. Breathe with me okay? Just breathe with me. Stay with me."

 _Stay with me._

* * *

AN2: This chapter was somewhat inspired by something personal: primarily the thought of "until when do you hold on"? To be honest, I was plagued by personal thoughts and the song "I'll stand by you" by The Pretenders. If you folks want a peek into my mindset while writing this, give that song a listen.

This chapter is definitely spilling into another. So much for a five-parter I initially came up with when I first started with this story.

Please do let me know what you guys think. Sometimes I feel like this thing is dragging. But sometimes I feel like it's just right, maybe even a bit fast in some parts.

To those who stuck around this long...thank you.

To the new readers, thank you for deciding to give this a shot-and a review to boot!

To the lurkers...thank you for reading this far.


	6. Where else (Pt 2)

Author's Note: Yes. I'm still alive. My apologies once again for the delay in between updates. Apparently I can't wrap this up in just two chapters (including this one), as planned. May have to be two more at least. Oh boy. Here's to hoping you folks are still sticking around for it.

* * *

 _"If you're calling this number, you know the drill."_

 _"Hey, Rizzoli. It's Kate. My brilliant husband wants to spend the night at some B &B he says is just awesome. Between you and me, I think he's planning to buy the damn thing. That look in his eyes is pretty similar to that time he decided to actually purchase a bar."_

 _"YOU LOVE THAT BAR!"_

 _"Shut it, Castle!"_

 _It sounds like Kate is trying to muffle the phone's mic briefly as she moves away from Rick._

 _There's a momentary pause._

 _Kate continues with a softer tone, "But I think I'm going to agree with him on this one. Take care, Jane. Let me know if you guys need anything. We'll try and stay away until you say otherwise."_

-x-x-x-x-x-

The partly open windows allow for the distant sound of waves to wash over the room, muffling the slight sniffles that still plague the doctor every so often. Jane looks over her shoulder to ensure that Maura is still asleep as she takes one last look at the sprawling grounds before her, including the sea that would normally draw her in, if not for the woman currently occupying her bed.

True to form, any sound of distress from Maura is enough to draw the detective close. Closer.

Jane takes a seat on the bed by Maura's head. As if drawn to Jane just as surely as the detective is to the doctor, Maura seems to shift closer until her cheek is gently touching the side of Jane's thigh. With a soft sigh, Maura seems to settle.

Unable to help herself, Jane lifts a hand and gently places it atop Maura's head, and slowly begins to run her hand through the other woman's soft tresses.

To be perfectly honest, Jane feels a tumult of emotions running within her and through her. She wants to stay but the urge to run is just as strong.

It's just she can't leave until she's ensured that Maura is okay.

Like she told her earlier, Jane meant it when she said "Always."

Even if each stroke of her hand against Maura's hair slams something hard and painful against the inside of her chest.

Even if it takes something from her being that may be irretrievable in the end. But, what _end_?

The sleeping woman finally begins to stir.

Jane's hand freezes mid-air.

And then she finds herself staring into an all-too-familiar pair of eyes.

Both are lost in each other's gaze. But each embedded in the other for different reasons.

One appears to be reacquainting herself with something she thought she'd lost long before. Perhaps trying to take in everything she could in case this is the last time.

The other finds herself trying to figure out what's changed. If anything has.

She notes small discrepancies that weren't there before. And she wonders what caused the changes. She notes that her eyes are the same, the emotions swimming in them somewhat familiar, but she can't quite identify them all just yet.

But she knows that if given the time, she could.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"I'm sorry."

The words jolt both to the present. The speaker is surprised at the words she may have unconsciously spoken aloud. The recipient is just as surprised, if not more so.

With wide eyes, Maura asks, "Why…why would you apologize?"

Jane's shoulders offer a barely-there shrug alongside a self-deprecating smile.

"Because I shouldn't have pushed."

Maura's shaking her head before Jane could even finish her sentence, her hand reaching out to grasp one of Jane's closest to her cheek. Maura looks up at Jane with plea in her eyes.

"If anyone should be apologizing, it's me, Jane. Please don't apologize, please. I cannot blame you for feeling that way. Or even thinking it. Not after what happened. Not after what I did."

Silence reigns for a few moments, Maura staring at Jane with a hint of fear and uncertainty in her eyes while the other woman brings her stare to somewhere outside. Lost.

After a while, Jane breathes in deeply and starts speaking. "Help me understand, Maura."

She brings her gaze back down to the woman beside her. "I need to understand."

Maura nods solemnly, taking in everything that is being said through her best friend's eyes. The intensity of the pain, hurt, uncertainty, and even anger just brewing under the surface.

"I'm in love with you, Jane."

-x-x-x-x-x-

The words seem to rob the detective of her ability to breathe.

She wants to question her reality, but Maura's stare is steady. Unflinching. The look in her eyes could almost be described as "hard" except it's warm, with something that seems to be silently begging in earnest for Jane to listen, to pay attention, to stay with her in that moment.

And to be honest, Jane feels rooted to that spot. Sitting beside Maura who is shifting to sit up and face Jane more properly, taking one of her hand in hers. Maura, whose eyes show a trace of fear in them, but pushes forward with more words as Jane sits quietly. Stunned. Frozen.

Maura continues, "I have been in love with you for what seems like as long as we've known each other. Unfortunately, it took me a long time to identify those emotions, more so to understand what they meant. " Maura looks down, and a small upturn of her lips causes Jane to follow her gaze and is somewhat unsurprised to find that her limbs may have betrayed her, with their fingers intertwined.

Both keep their gaze upon their hands as it seems to be easier: easier for Maura to keep on talking, and easier for Jane to stay and listen, despite the growing tumult of emotions within her she's not ready to identify.

"When Paddy was shot, I _was_ upset. But mostly it was because of the circumstances. Paddy knew who my biological mother was. And he held that over my head every time I threatened he stay out of my life for good. If he died, he'd have taken that knowledge with him."

Maura's grip on Jane's hand tightens and Jane instinctively returns the firm grip in response.

"It's not an excuse, Jane. But I've wanted to know where I came from for _so long_. You know my fears, and I know you've continuously emphasized how he's no more than a sperm donor…but the scientist in me can't help it. Nature vs nurture aside, I want to know that there is something _possibly_ and _inherently_ good in me that is not from an Irish mobster. I want to know, Jane. I need to know. I _needed_ to know."

The change in tense latches onto Jane and she finds herself suddenly staring into Maura's eyes.

There's a feeble smile on the other woman, somewhat self-deprecating, and Maura couples it with a slight shrug as she continues. "It took me awhile, I admit. Mother had something to say to me about it, but mostly it was you."

The question must be obvious on Jane's face as Maura gives her a nod and with a small tilt of her head pushes on to answer the unspoken query.

 _"You already are inherently good, Maura. Maybe it's from your biological mother, or maybe it could be Paddy's—after all, you barely know the man. Who's to say he has a hidden kind and honorable nature within him you've inherited. Or is it not enough that perhaps some of your father's and mine influenced you to be who you are today? What difference does it honestly make?_

 _She winces at the same time as she answers, "I have been trying to understand that myself, mother. Do you know how much sleep I've lost trying to figure out why? You may add that to my long list of answers I need to find as apparently it's worth throwing away the best relationship I've ever been in for." She unconsciously bites her lips in frustration, looking out of the window and her hands grasping the arm rest of her chair._

 _Constance notes that her daughter has been nothing but a mess of nerves and a ball of unnamed set of emotions ever since she arrived at her doorstep, crying. As of the moment, her eyes are still somewhat red. Unconsciously, the older woman tilts her head slightly to the side while observing her only child. Blood or not, biological or otherwise, she is her daughter. Her child. And she will do everything within her power to fix all that she can for her. To pick her up while she is down. To hold her for the rest of her life if need be. However, Constance believes there is someone else out there meant to stand by her daughter. For much longer. For ever. And if she's right, she may understand far more than Maura knows and understands at this time._

 _"Maura, darling." She waits for the younger woman to meet her gaze before she continues._

 _The latter belatedly notices the tilt of her mother's head. A habit she knows Jane has called her out on before as "kinda cute."_

 _"For whom are you looking the answers for?"_

 _And it renders her momentarily frozen._

 _For whom?_

 _"For me, mother. Who else?" she responds._

 _"You have always been a fairly level-headed child, my dear. Maybe too much at times, but I've always known, and have seen your mind be complemented by a kind disposition you made a point to keep in check. Your passion to help others is one. You never looked nor asked for what you could gain in return or in kind. You could be anywhere and be anything, yet you chose a path where despite your belief of being unable to connect with people 'normally' you would be forced to endure something that made you uncomfortable. Something that even made you the subject of certain ridicule."_

 _Maura is surprised. And it must show on her face._

 _"A mother knows, dear. I am just so sorry that I was unable to truly help you when it mattered most. I didn't know how. All I knew was to give you what you asked for. Which wasn't much, unfortunately."_

 _"But I digress! Maura, I believe that you don't desperately need to know who your biological mother is. You know who you are. It's what makes you so comfortable in your skin. Something I know others desperately envy you for. And that's a fact. So…if you don't need to know…why pursue an inquiry into something you can do without? For whom are you doing all of these, Maura?"_

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Who?"

Jane's voice, deep as it may be, still somewhat cracks towards the end of her questioning tone. As if long unused.

"You" Maura answers simply.

"It's always been you, Jane. About you."

Abruptly, Jane pulls her hand away and rushes out of the room.

"Jane!" Maura cries out in alarm.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jane feels tears blurring her vision, and despite the small stumble she encounters as she goes down the staircase, her flight instincts are roaring for her to get out.

 _I need to get out._

 _I can't breathe._

 _It's me._

 _It's my fault._

 _It wasn't a lie after all._

 _It IS all my doing._

 _I can't._

 _I need to go!_

But then a different voice seems to taunt her just the same.

 _But where else can you go?_

Something catches her by the arm, disturbing her momentum enough to send her spinning and tumbling forward and towards the weight that halted her movement.

"Jane!"

There seems to be a roaring sound in her ears. It just seems to be too much all at once. She knows she's not alone. Someone is there, trying to speak to her. There is something holding onto her arms.

She shakes her head wildly and focuses enough to recognize Maura with her own frantic look, with a tight grip onto both her arms.

"You misunderstand, Jane! Please! Please listen to me."

"I think I understood enough—"

"—no! No you haven't. Jane, please. Don't leave. Don't leave me," Maura pleads.

Jane shakes her head, "It's my fault," she mumbles.

"No, Jane! This is all on me. Please, listen!"

Maura could feel Jane's muscles tightening and understands she has a window of opportunity that is quickly getting smaller.

Soon enough, her grip won't be enough to keep her, to get her to stay. If Jane truly wanted to go, she could easily maneuver herself out of Maura's measly hold onto her arms.

She tries to speak as fast but as coherently as possible.

"Jane, I made a mistake. I didn't understand it all at first but, mother was right. Knowing who my biological mother would have only sated my curiosity at best. But what drove me to know so badly was that I wanted to prove to you that I didn't come solely from a stock like Doyle."

The pause in Jane gives Maura hope that she's still listening and can still get her to understand in time.

"I know how much you value family, Jane. How 'blood is thicker than water'—even if that is such a bastardization of the original reference—"

Jane shakes her head once more.

"—which is not the point right now. But Jane, what I mean is that you talk about family so much. I see how you are with your mother, your brothers, and how they are with you. You put so much weight onto who you are, hold so much faith in that very identity, precisely because of your identity, of where you come from. And I just wanted to be able to prove to you that I can do the same. I can show you who I am. Fully. So that maybe…maybe you'll realize you didn't make a mistake in having me for a best friend."

Jane stares at her with something she can't quite decipher.

"And that maybe…maybe I could be something _more_. In the future. And if you do, you won't ever have to worry about where I came from, who I am, what kind of person I am. I'll be worthy, Jane. Worthy of you."

Jane stops struggling.

In fact, Jane seems to have stopped moving entirely.

Maura tries to read her, but Jane seems to have her stoic interrogation face in place.

Something Maura hates at times like this.

At a time where she needs to understand if she needs to do something else, something more.

"You really are the dumbest genius I know."

* * *

Author's Note 2: I hope there are still some folks reading this. I know I've been slacking on the updates. It's hard when the words won't come. In fact, I feel like this chapter was done by force. It didn't flow as well as it should. I think.

Let me know if I did this at least somewhat right.

Again, to those who left reviews and even sent PMs to encourage updates: thank you. I read them and I do try to reply when I can. Much like those who remarked "stay" based on last chapter's parting words, I ask the same of you readers. If you'd please.

I hope you stay with me as I try my best to complete this. Including my other story/ies.

Again, thank you to those who stuck it with me this far. I take your reviews to heart and I'm glad you find it worthy enough to leave encouraging words. I'll do my best to dole out the next one sooner than what it took for this one.


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